


How to Keep a Tulip Promise

by thunderswept



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alice in Wonderland References, Comedy, F/F, M/M, Other, addiction to coffee and sweet things idk, body parts falling off and being picked up by strangers, idk if there's angst just be prepared for anything, lesbian queens, love triangle (between minor characters), no smut sorry, sorry the lesbian queens don't get much screen time @bo, tried to write ot12 but I forgot someone sorry, very minor mentions of blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-09
Updated: 2017-09-09
Packaged: 2018-12-25 12:49:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12036207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderswept/pseuds/thunderswept
Summary: What does it take for Jongin to realize he's not dreaming?- Alternatively titled: Of Mercury and Cat Cheese





	How to Keep a Tulip Promise

**Author's Note:**

> I want to thank Bo for helping me beta this along the way and Alexa for telling me she really liked what I wrote.
> 
> Hope you enjoy reading this Mess™ ❤ ❤ ❤ (and laugh a lil' bit). Onwards ➳ ➳ ➳

♚

 

There’s a strange thing, laying on the sidewalk, snug in the crevice between the wall of the coffee shop and the concrete ground. Had it not been white in color, Jongin would’ve missed it.

 

The small object seemed to be covered in ruffled hairs, speckled with dirt in some places more than others, although there wasn’t much surface to begin with. Jongin picked it up, inspecting it between his thumb and forefinger. Then he let it sit on his palm, where it didn’t roll, like how Jongin thought it would for whatever reason.

 

It seemed like a rabbit’s foot. One that wasn’t on a rabbit in that moment, and what was stranger than a severed foot was the lack of real flesh and maybe some dried, or even fresh blood. Upon closer inspection, there was little odor and the inside, where Jongin assumed there would be bone, glinted metallically.

 

Maybe it wasn’t a rabbit’s foot. Or it was one, but fake, and that idea seemed all the more plausible.

 

With a small promise of luck on his mind, Jongin placed the object in his pocket, and thought the white thing would make an interesting keychain.

 

He could use a little bit of luck from a rabbit’s foot, real or not.

 

A spring in the right direction.

 

♚

 

Click. Click. _Click_.

 

Jongin felt the particularly irritated glare from the student at the next table. He pressed down on the button of his pen, and knew the ballpoint was retracted back into its inky cavern. Even though he could help it, he’d just say he can’t, and that it’s a tick he has to level out his anxiety. Except, he doesn’t even have a particularly high level of anxiety; never had. Not even one that fluctuated, where it spiked to all-time highs on occasion.

 

He never had those kinds of problems, growing up. His problems were of a different variety, maybe less exciting, but no less impactful to his life, and no less undesirable.

 

The public library was especially crammed that afternoon; not a minute that went by without someone flicking some pages because they were actually studying or at the very least trying hard to convince themselves they were. Jongin heard people talk about how they don’t actually study. He didn’t get it: why bother with the commute? And besides, the person at the next table would probably love to have moved to another, far from Jongin’s incessant clicking, but there were no free tables.

 

They could move and ask to share a table, but oh, there’s that thing where you might be showing interest in someone by asking to sit with them. Yeah.

 

Jongin didn’t get that either. He doesn’t get a lot of that ‘youth culture’. Never did.

 

With a quick glance at his watch, Jongin decided it would be a good time to spare the poor student, who looked like they really were trying to get some studying done. He flipped his novel closed, something about the power of the mind and the impact of will. It looked interesting, which is why he grabbed it, but he never intended to read at all.

 

Jongin paused in his attempt to leave, and thought maybe he was similar, in a way, to the students who pretended to study, as pointless as it was.

 

The book was left on the table for the librarians to reshelve. Funny though, maybe it would help if he bothered to read any of it.

 

Another pair of eyes watched as the rabbit’s foot swayed from one of the loops on Jongin’s jeans.

 

It was a decent day outside, decent enough for ice cream. It probably wasn’t a decent enough day to spend money on treats, though. Maybe an indecent week, as well. But Jongin’s always had that mentality, that things that _maybe_ shouldn’t be done weren’t important to dwell on. And because _why not,_ when he would still live immediately after. There are great ways to get the oxytocin going, with risks less intimidating than a bumblebee.

 

Jongin ordered raspberry with dark chocolate chunks and saw the pretty shine when it melted a bit, smooth and without soft-but-jagged grooves. The man after him bought carrot cake and classic vanilla bean. They both exited the shop, a few dollars shorter, with Jongin having left first.

 

Since the day was decent enough for treats, it seemed natural to enjoy them in the park. Families who were on their free days, trying to fly kites, but resorted to the sort of run-and-glide method on the less windy days. It would be a brighter day without the tinted veil that lightly draped over Jongin. Although, with every lick of his ice cream, a gentle breeze ruffled his shaded curtain.

 

“Excuse me, mister!” A child shouted as they ran in front of Jongin, across the sidewalk and joined their parents on the other side. He lurched backwards, and avoided narrowly tripping over the child. The back of his hand felt chilled, and Jongin saw the dull violet splatter of his soiled treat on the ground. He huffed in minute disappointment. The cone, still in his hand, was tossed into the nearest bin.

 

♚

 

It was about time for a change in pace. Forward, but where? Faster, but when?

 

Jongin was lost, although not disastrously so. That was, until he found himself with wind that flew past his ears, his hair whipped in untamed tendrils, chips of browned leaves and a twig caught in his hair. Of course, he was still lost, and strangely felt no panic. He could not see, either. It was a black void, with the one faint speck of light from where he first came. The speck was all he could see, as his back rushed towards nothing.

 

♚

 

Tick. Tick. Tick. _Tock_. It echoes, and he awakes.

 

A windowless room, a bare lightbulb hanging at the center of the ceiling giving off a yellowish glow. The bed is alright. Its covers are itchy like a quilt sewn with mediocre fabric. His knees are cold.

 

The sound of a scissors’ snip is resounding. Jongin shifts on the bed, bringing one knee up so he can rub some warmth back into the joint. His hands have always been less susceptible to the chill.

 

It’s strange, feeling like you woke up from a dream you’re not sure ever happened. But as Jongin gains awareness to his surroundings, maybe it was never even a dream. There is a man in a chair, a small distance from the bed, his back straight as he remains preoccupied. _Snip, snip._ His scissors clip the air idly, as the man seems to consider something. He turns abruptly, and owlish eyes peer back at Jongin.

 

“Awake.” His eyes are blank, like he has become lost in thought, suddenly still. Jongin wonders if he’s alright. The man shake his head, and Jongin thinks he sees him twitch once, before a smile stretches across his pale face.

 

“Oh, you’re awake,” he says, more lively than before. The man’s eyes are a startling fiery amber, with dark rings and dilated pitch black pupils. His hair is a nest of unruly ashy strands and an undercut, barely contained by his midnight blue hat wrapped with thick silver ribbon, a needle pinned into the side. “Can I get anything for you? Fancy some tea?”

 

Jongin shakes his head, leaning a little ways away from the strange man.

 

“Oh, good,” the man says with a wave of his hand, looking relieved. “I didn’t have any tea anyway.” He spins around, fumbling with something on the desk that tinkered like tea cups. Twisting again, the man is now holding a dainty cup between his fingers, sipping it delightedly. “Espresso,” he says, bunching his shoulders up like he was cold. “Coffee for the soul. Would you like some?”

 

Jongin shakes his head again.

 

“Oh, that’s also good. I don’t quite like to share,” he sighs in content. “If you don’t mind, I had to return the rabbit’s foot to my friend. It’s quite imperative that he have his foot back.”

 

Reaching, Jongin feels around his pants for the dangling charm, only to find that it was indeed taken. “Yeah, that’s fine,” Jongin relents with an unconscious frown. “Is this your home?”

 

“I don’t have a home; I live in my workshop,” the other answers, adjusting his coat lapels. “You are in my upstairs abode, or workshop in general. I’m known for my hats but I believe my best trade are my fabulous overcoats.” He springs up from his seat, sauntering over to a luxurious wardrobe which he opens to reveal a color coded variety of long coats. “I have peacoats, trench coats, princess, double breasted, single breasted, ones with pockets, ones without, the cape, the capelet, the reefer, the wrap, the frock, and all the hats you could wear to complete the look.” He’s not even out of breath by the end of the long list.

 

“Customers tend to shy away from the hats, however. I don’t know why— I tell them how I take care of all my hats with a mercury polish, and they ask about the coats instead. I suppose I don’t mind, the coats make a better living.” He spins on his heels with a tilted head, like he has something to hide. Leaning over, the wide-eyed man whispers, “Want to know something super duper secret?”

 

Jongin furrows his brows, nodding slowly.

 

“I only polish my hats, the ones I wear. Just for me, just for myself. I have to sell the product, I might as well make the ones I have look nicer.”

 

“You might want to stop using mercury,” Jongin says. “Everyone knows it’s not good for the body.”

 

“That’s nonsense! I’ve never heard of such a claim. Although it would explain the behavior of my customers…” The man stills for a moment, seemingly staring off into nothing. He blinks rapidly, like he’s come back from somewhere in his head. “What’s your name?” he asks with a wide and unique smile. The shape reminds Jongin of a heart.

 

“Jongin,” he says, moving on the bed so that his legs sit over the edge. His shoes are gone.

 

“Jongin,” the man repeats. “Well, Jongin, my name is Kyungsoo. But people like to dub me the Mad Hatter. I think it’s quite interesting! Call me either way.”

 

So, he is known for his mad appearance, judging by the somewhat off-hinge mannerisms. Jongin guesses it’s nothing to worry about if the man manages to keep his business running.

 

“Why am I here?” Jongin asks, finally wondering how he even ended up in the hatter’s workplace. The last thing he remembered was the soothing shade of the large, old oak somewhere in a secluded area of the park. His hand was wet from the wash in the public fountain, resting on his chest. He thinks he fell asleep.

 

There was also a dream, but Jongin did not see anything. He could not see anything, he remembers, because it was too dark. There was light… a pinpoint above him. That’s it.

 

“I don’t really know. You just showed up in my garden, unconscious,” Kyungsoo says, having gone back to his desk for another sip of espresso. “It was an experience, but I’m told my reaction was quite underwhelming.”

 

Jongin eyes the cup. Coffee is poison in his book. The stronger, the more menacing, and espresso is as nasty as it gets. Just to put that out there.

 

“Your garden, huh?” Jongin quietly reiterates.

 

“My tulips are absolutely devastated, by the way. I fully expect you to do something about that issue,” Kyungsoo states, not looking upset in the least. In fact, he seems amused.

 

“Sorry,” Jongin says. “I shouldn’t be staying too long though, but we can exchange numbers and I’ll promise to get you new tulips.”

 

“Oh,” the Hatter exclaims, chuckling lightly. “I don’t know if you’ll know where to go.”

 

“What do you mean?” Jongin questions. He could figure out how to get home; it’s not like he left the city.

 

“Well, I don’t personally think you’re from around here…” Kyungsoo answers carefully, cradling his tiny cup of bitter bitter espresso. “Your clothing is so strange. Not to mention, you popped up in my garden and had no idea.” He smiles as if he’s trying to be reassuring, but frankly, his crazed eyes and wide grin are far from calming.

 

Did Jongin actually somehow leave the city? Was he kidnapped in his sleep? That just goes to show: never sleep in public places, kids.

 

“Um,” Jongin mumbles, “okay, but I think I’ll try to take my chances.”

 

A bout of giggling erupts from Kyungsoo’s lips, deep and bubbly as he squints with his grinning. “Ooh,” he gasps, trying to sober up,“I’m sorry. I do that sometimes, I know that wasn’t supposed to be funny.” He sniffs, cupping his cheeks like he is willing his expression to change. “It’s really difficult to stop the maniacal laughter. I know I look crazy.”

 

Coughing softly, Jongin tries not to smile at the site of the hatter acting oddly adorable. “It’s okay,” he assures. “I’m sure you’re not laughing at me or anything. Could I have my shoes?”

 

“Ah, of course! You know, if you keep your tulip promise to me, I’ll give you a nice set of clothing in exchange,” Kyungsoo offers happily, already sifting through the wardrobe for clothing that all look somewhat similar to what the hatter himself wore. Except, there were some different colors. “You look like you would fit nicely with a lovely beige theme.” He holds up a cream coat with a dark mocha vest and a white dress shirt in one hand, a pair of shiny black loafers in the other.”This _would_ be perfect. The colors of my dreams. Coffee.”

 

“Just the shoes would be fine,” Jongin says awkwardly. “I really couldn’t take the clothes.”

 

“More nonsense! You’ll stick out like a sore thumb, dressed like that.” Kyungsoo clucks in a reprimanding manner, laying the clothes next to his guest. “I’ll get you some slacks and socks, maybe a bow tie to match.”

 

“No socks,” Jongin says quickly, “I don’t wear socks.”

 

“Well, unless you want blisters on your smelly toes, I suggest you stop resisting my help,” Kyungsoo clips, a little attitude showing through. “By the way, what are the numbers you were saying we should exchange earlier? How does one exchange numbers?”

 

“Do you have a cell phone?” Jongin questions, starting to change into the dress shirt. “I can send you texts.”

 

“What is a cell phone?” Kyungsoo wonders. “Does it have something to do with prison?”

 

“Okay, nevermind that, do you have a telephone? Landline?” Jongin suggests, putting on the pants.

 

“I fail to see how any of this connects,” Kyungsoo states exasperatedly as he shoves shoes onto his guest’s socked feet. “From numbers to prison to written text to something about land. What are you getting at?”

 

Not only is the hatter flabbergasted, but Jongin is also confused. What kind of world does this man live in?

 

“I’ll just figure out a way to contact you. Or I can just go get some tulips right now,” Jongin tosses ideas around, gesturing behind him. He’s ready to get out of there.

 

“That’s fine, but you’re going to plant them as well?” Kyungsoo holds up the long overcoat expectantly.

 

Standing upright, Jongin lets the hatter slip the clothing over him. “I guess so, but probably not while wearing this.”

 

“That is an excellent observation,” Kyungsoo agrees. “I’ll show you to the door then. You’re really not hungry for anything?”

 

“I’m good.”

 

He is not good. As soon as he steps out the front door to the store, Kyungsoo is saying his farewell while letting the door close with a classic jingle. He feels flung into another reality. Funny looking houses line up the old Victorian styled streets and street lamps. Strange cottages and other buildings make the whole scene seem like it came from a children’s book. People in similarly strange outfits amble amicably among the road and sidewalks, where weird cars and some horse-driven carriages are parked or moving along slowly. They pay Jongin no mind, thanks to the hatter’s charity.

 

Jongin, having not moved an inch away from where he came, turns around and knocks on the door.

 

♚

 

“He is a strange looking fellow, isn’t he?” The mouse kicks their legs languidly, perching on a tiny stool fit for the dolls Kyungsoo uses to practice his craft. “You don’t normally see folk with that healthy of a glow. Where do you reckon he’s from, eh? Hatter?”

 

“Not from around here, I already knew that from the first good look I got from em’,” Kyungsoo mutters around a thin thread trapped between his teeth as he fiddles with his coat in progress. “He is not one to talk much, either.”

 

“Where is this place?” Jongin asks, anxious and irritated from how thrown and lost he is. “I feel like this has to be a dream. I’m dreaming, aren’t I?”

 

“Not a dream,” the mouse turns down. “I know I’m not dreaming. Hell, I tend to doze while I’m telling stories, but at least I know it when I’m not awake. Name’s Minseok by the way. I’m a dormouse, not a mouse.” The dormouse hopes off their stool and struts over to shake hands with paws.

 

Jongin hesitantly takes the small paws in between his fingers and gently shakes. He still thinks none of this is real. Screw what this mouse says.

 

“Nice grip you got there,” the dormouse chuckles, adjusting the needle sheathed at their hip.

 

“Will that cat be popping in anytime soon?” Kyungsoo asks, pulling his arm back to finish a stitch.

 

“Goodness, I hope Jongdae doesn’t. He’s really bothersome, you know that?” Minseok huffs, agitated.

 

“He just likes you, as strange as it is. Cat and mouse,” Kyungsoo laughs.

 

“Dormouse, you nincompoop. Jongdae shouldn’t even be considered a cat, but I wouldn’t call him a mouse. What cat craves cheese? That’s a mouse’s delicacy— cats should stick to their milk and cream.”

 

“Milk and cream? And did I hear cheese? I’ll have you know, I am an all-dairy aficionado. I enjoy yogurt on my diets.”

 

Minseok groans, earning another bout of laughter from the hatter who clutches his stomach as he waves his new guest over. Jongin sees nothing at first, but then there are a bright pink pair of catlike eyes peering at him curiously, several feet in the air.

 

“Floating eyes,” Jongin stares dumbly. “Maybe I’m just insane.”

 

“We’re all without a few nuts and screws in our heads,” the eyes seem to say, squinting into crescents like they were smiling. A vague form appears around the eyes, and soon the body of a sleek and gray, short-haired feline is present, still floating. He sports a sinister-looking grin, toothy and sharp.

 

“Shut your mouth, you’ll scare him with your ugly chompers, you pesky cat,” Minseok berates, stance threatening.

 

“Still adorable as always,” the cat purrs saccharinely, slowly descending from the air towards the dormouse, who scowls. He makes a point to subtly curl around the dormouse with affection. “Oh, love, why do you reject me so?”

 

“‘Cause you’re an ugly cat, that’s why,” Minseok says, batting Jongdae’s long whiskers out of his face. “But more importantly, you’re a cat!”

 

“Done!” Kyungsoo shouts, then quickly covers his mouth in an ‘oops’ gesture for being unnecessarily loud. “I’m quite proud of this one,” he says, a wide and particularly heart-shaped smile on his face.

 

“It looks good,” Jongdae compliments genuinely. “I’m quite fond of the gray color.”

 

“Thank you kindly. Minseok, he’s such a nice cat, I don’t understand why you dislike him.”

 

“You’re only saying that because he said what he said,” Minseok grumbles, squeaking indignantly after tripping over Jongdae’s curled tail in attempt to put some distance between them. The cat breaks the dormouse’s fall and lifts his tail, carrying Minseok back to his side with a grin that is a mix between shit-eating and adoring. By now, most of the attention has shifted to the smallest being in the vicinity.

 

“At least he’s more well-mannered towards me, unlike a certain mouse I know…”

 

“DORMOUSE!”

 

A shark knock came from what sounds like from the back door. It was more of a pecking than anything else. Jongin isn’t sure if he feels relief that the quarrel between the three would be put on hold or more anxious at the prospect of meeting another crazy creature from whatever world he was stuck in.

 

“Oh! Another guest,” Kyungsoo gushes, hurrying to put away his new coat before rushing to the door.

 

“Ugh, it’s that bird,” Jongdae hisses mildly in annoyance, clearly not on good terms with whoever was outside, waiting to be let in.

 

“Tsk, grumble and whine all you want, cat. Luhan is a lot more nicer than you,” Minseok states confidently, almost as if he was egging on the admirer.

 

“Him?” the cat yowls indignantly this time, offended and put off. “He’s just a seedy bird who can’t even sing in tune!”

 

“Excuse me, just because I am a bird, more specifically a jubjub, and my common diet is that of the seed, it does not mean I am by any means _seedy_.” A flamboyant looking bird with frilly, tapered feathers showing a neutral teal color waltzes into the room, reminding Jongin of something akin to a larger than normal flamingo. There are hints of dodo, as well. “And I think I sing alright.”

 

“My friends, please,” Kyungsoo chastises. “How about you don’t argue amongst your love triangle troubles while we are together in my workshop. I’d much rather speak of more lighter topics. Plus, we have a _new_ new guest.” He gestures to Jongin, who has been still and silent throughout most of the conversing. “I’m sure he does not appreciate the fickle fights.”

 

Jongin tenses when everyone’s gaze turns to him in acknowledgement. He smiles awkwardly, giving a small wave. “Don’t mind me…”

 

“I’m sorry, Hatter,” Luhan caws softly. “You have to know, I don’t bring light news. Unfortunately, it can’t wait.”

 

“Oh no,” Kyungsoo says forlornly, a genuine expression of concern dawning. “Is he okay?” he asks knowingly.

 

“There’s no real telling,” Luhan says, head dipping sadly. “He’s falling apart. Literally.”

 

“What happened with Junmyeon?” Minseok squeaks frantically, nose twitching. “Where is he?”

 

“They took him back to the White Queen’s castle to be treated, not that there’s much that can be done,” Luhan provides. “Just be prepared for anything.”

 

“We’re all going to die,” the cat mumbles morbidly with a face of indifference. He licks his paw. “It’s about time.”

 

“And you wonder why I dislike you,” Minseok retorts.

 

Jongin internally cringes at the drastically dreary mood that settled in the room, not sure how to respond to any of it. The correlation between their friend and their mutual demise doesn’t explain itself. He just got here! Everything only adds up to one thought; he has got to find a way to leave whatever this place is.

 

He reaches over his lap with a hand to pinch his wrist, hard. The result is disappointing. All it serves to accomplish is make him yelp in pain, and now everyone’s staring at him with varying expressions of concern, confusion, and ‘are you seriously still thinking you’re dreaming right now? I know what you did. Don’t think I don’t.’

 

The last expression is coming from Minseok.

 

“S-sorry,” Jongin stammered, feeling embarrassed and stupid. “It’s nothing.”

 

“Luhan, could I go with you to visit him?” the dormouse pleads, scampering up to the jubjub who is already lowering himself to be mounted.

 

“I’m sure he’d appreciate seeing some friends,” Luhan says as Minseok climbs on. He throws a particularly loathing look towards Jongdae who bares his teeth back, tail flicking.

 

“I’d love to tag along!” Kyungsoo chimes in, going to retrieve his newly crafted apparel. “I have a gift for him, even if he can’t wear it right now.”

 

“He’ll love it, Hatter,” Luhan reassures. “Now, if no one else wishes to come with, we’ll be on our way to the castle.”

 

“Occupy yourself, Jongin,” Kyungsoo suggests. “You can stay here in the workshop or go wherever.”

 

Jongin guesses he’ll have to get the man’s tulips another time.

 

The three begin to walk to the door, soon disappearing through it. Jongin notices the cat is gone, but he didn’t see him leave. Alone, he feels an emptiness spread through the room and into him, but it’s a strange feeling that evokes no emotion, but rather has his mind flicker into a steady blankness. There is no awareness, and it all happens too quickly for him to process.

 

♚

 

When Jongin comes to, there’s no steady tick tock of the grandfather clock in the corner of the hatter’s workshop, or the barely audible ringing of the tea cups on the table where Minseok’s stool also perched. In fact, he’s no longer in an enclosed space. His seat is softer than he remembers, and he realizes he’s sitting on a fallen log, partially rotten.

 

The forest around him lacks the chirping of birds or crickets, or the natural brown and green themes. It’s pink and blue with tinges of purple and everything is so completely still. Fireflies glow orange, bringing a feeling a life with every flash of light.

 

“Shit,” he mumbles. “Where am I now?” At this point, he has got to be dreaming. Normally people don’t remember everything that happens while they sleep, and this must be one of those jump cuts in sequence where whatever is going on now may have nothing to do with what he last remembers.

 

A rustle in the bushes and barely contained whispers startle Jongin. Two boys tumble out from the pink brush, fighting each other with face shoving, grunts, and immature tugs.

 

“You quit it!” the smaller of them cries out.

 

“No, you!” the bigger one grunts.

 

“I’ll teach you for calling me a dim-wit!”

 

“Well, it’s true!”

 

Clearing his throat, Jongin watches the two boys in matching clothing take notice of his presence and straighten themselves up in a matter of seconds. They stare at Jongin, one with wariness and the other with curiosity.

 

“Hi,” Jongin starts. “What are your guy’s names?”

 

“Chanyeol.”

 

“Baekhyun.”

 

The two boys chorus together, their voices contrasting with deeper and lighter tones.

 

“We’re twins!” Baekhyun chirps excitedly, but maybe a bit more excited than necessary. “Unidentical, which is a good thing because I would be ugly if I shared faces with this doof— OW!” Baekhyun shouts from the whack to the head that came from the taller of the twins.

 

“You think I’m ugly? You should see your face. I think I should be more thankf— OW!” Chanyeol grunts, nursing his abused cheek as a result of Baekhyun’s smack.

 

“U-uhm,” Jongin intercepts, holding out a hesitant hand to grab their attention. “If it helps, I think you’re both not ugly.”

 

“It doesn’t,” Baekhyun clips. “I don’t appreciate that you would lie to our faces like that.”

 

“I’m not lying though,” Jongin tries to reassure hurriedly, afraid of making things worse.

 

“Sure you aren’t,” Chanyeol snorts, getting up to brush off his shorts. “We all know someone has to be ugly, and that’s not me.”

 

“Well, it’s not me!”

 

“I’m sorry,” Jongin intercepts again, cringing inwardly when the two turn to glare at him. “Could I ask where I am?”

 

“You are here,” the twins chorus, looking at Jongin like he lacked a properly sized head that was a size too small.

 

“Clearly you are not _from_ around here,” Baekhyun surmises with exaggerated gestures. “But you are here. This is where you are.”

 

“Here in this place, this place that is here,” Chanyeol chimes in enigmatically, the twins achieving in making a confusing and repetitive chant. It was poetic in an annoying and nonsensical way. Jongin was never one for poetry. The encounter so far makes him feel like he never left the ‘reality’ that the Hatter and his animal friends resided in.

 

“Okay…” Jongin trails off, frowning. “Then, do you think you guys could tell me the name of this place?”

 

“There is no name for this forest, and rightfully so, for it leaves you forgetting yours anyhow,” Baekhyun states dutifully, like he’s said it many times before, again and again. “Say, can you tell us your name?” he says with a sly grin, another pair of eyes twinkling with that familiar, knowing look.

 

“I… my name— ” Jongin tries to share, but his mind goes blank and he comes up empty. “I don’t know.”

 

The twins hold up their wrist with their palms facing up to display a messy scribble of similar writing. “We wrote our names down,” they say in unison. “This way, we won’t need to leave the forest to remember.”

 

“Come play with us!” Baekhyun cheers with a bounce as he latches onto Jongin’s arm while Chanyeol follows his shorter twin’s lead, grabbing the man’s other arm. “We know lots of fun things to do, and later we can visit Tao’s castle and snatch some cherry tarts!”

 

“No!” Chanyeol whines fearfully, his grip loosening. “We’ll get in big, big trouble! Tao is so terrifying.”

 

“Aw, come on Channie, you know I won’t let that happen,” Baekhyun says with a surreptitious wink, soon holding both Jongin and Chanyeol’s arm. He drags everyone through the forest, only letting go once the other two relinquished their free will and followed along obediently.

 

They come across a small clearing dotted with a few particularly large mushrooms, so thick at the base that one could dig into the stem and make a shelter. In fact, one of them seems to be occupied, a makeshift door present.

 

“I’ll go get the special treats.” Baekhyun darts into the mushroom home. When he comes out, there’s a small wrapping that covers something, of which Jongin can’t quite identify, resting in the shorter twin’s palm. In the other hand is a glass vial of something tinged a teal blue. The label on the side says “Drink Me”.

 

“We don’t have a lot of that left, Baekhyunnie,” Chanyeol pouts. “Why don’t we wait to go visit that caterpillar later and get more? Let’s visit the castle some other time.”

 

“Bah! We’ll find him along the way. See there?” Baekhyun points up to the sky, towards a light plume of smoke rising up. “That’s where he is. Going there means going to the castle, too. Let’s go!”

 

Jongin falteringly keeps up with the twins, who practically skip through and between the trees like there was a map on the back of their hand. He thinks about how he could stay behind and hide away, so he won’t have to play along with whatever shenanigans the boys were planning. That idea falls short once he remembers that this is a forest that he doesn’t know. The only way out that he is aware of is in the direction of the castle. Was it the same castle mentioned by the bird from before? Jongin can’t remember his name.

 

A small garden of tulips comes into view, and Jongin halts as he remembers Kyungsoo and the tulips he promised him. Their tulip promise. Will he ever see the Hatter again?

 

“Please don’t touch my tulips,” an even voice pleads. “I have had one too many a stranger come and pluck them from their bed.”

 

Jongin finds a relaxed and blue caterpillar, with what seems like incense burning beside him, sitting atop another large but flat mushroom. This one is a dull and normal color splotched with large patches of a bolder teal than what is in the “Drink Me” bottle.

 

“Uh, sorry,” Jongin apologizes and backs away from the flowers.

 

“That is the longest sentence I have ever heard you speak!” Baekhyun gushes in excitement. “Say, caterpillar man, what’s your name again?” he asks while rolling on the balls of his feet in a childlike motion. “Because, you know, this is that forest where we all lose our names.”

 

“My name?” the caterpillar says shortly, but instead of the same blue, lumpy and quite large caterpillar from before, there’s a sleepy-eyed man, a pretty tint of blue to their skin, sitting cross-legged. Jongin is reminded of a meditating monk, although the clothes say otherwise. Navy blue suspenders, a baby blue button down, and an even darker blue pair of slacks. Gee, blue must be their most favorite color.

 

“Yes, your name,” Baekhyun huffs, like he’s been through this before with the same blue man and it is never fun to deal with.

 

“Mmm,” the man hums, and leans to the side to bask in the smoke coming from the incense beside him. “Rosemary is wonderful.”

 

“There he goes again,” Chanyeol muses, strolling up to the mushroom top to get a good whiff of the rosemary himself. He blanches. “I never liked that smell. No, no. Indigo too. Oh, no.” He shakes his head.

 

“A shame,” the man bemoans softly, looking up with an unchanging expression. “Indigo is my favorite.”

 

“Yeah, and I like peaches with cream. Anyways, caterpillar man, can we get some more of those amazing treats that make us small and big?” Baekhyun holds up the glass with the “Drink Me” and an unwrapped piece of moist but crumbly cake.

 

The treats make them big and small? Jongin doesn’t believe it one bit, but he still thinks he’s dreaming, so it’s possible. He’s not sure if he wants to succumb himself to that kind of dream experience, however. Shrinking isn’t on his list of priorities, but strangely enough, neither is waking up. The dream is interesting. This is especially so when the inhabitants of his dreams insist he is not dreaming.

 

“I think my height is an ideal height,” Jongin mentions in an effort to keep himself from having to eat the treats. They look tasty, but not that tasty. “I don’t need the cake or drink.”

 

“Hmm,” the man hums, except no longer is the man a _man_ , but now the blue caterpillar from before. “I am Yixing and I do not think your height is an ideal height.”

 

“Um, excuse me?” Jongin puzzles. How dare this blue caterpillar person belittle his _very_ ideal height? “Why don’t you even stay in the same form? Are you a man or bug?” Jongin presses, forgoing his original politeness.

 

“ _Rude_ ,” Baekhyun whispers teasingly.

 

“Three inches.” The caterpillar rolls onto his back, his nubby legs wriggling hypnotically. “That is an ideal height. That, I believe so.”

 

“Really?” Baekhyun jumps in impatiently. “That’s great! Now, can we have some of your special mushroom for the growing cake and shrinking juice? So we can be three inches?” He is shaking with the urge to snag some cherry tarts. Chanyeol had gone off to chase dragonflies and to roll in the grass out in the background, happily doing so.

 

“Let me see.” The caterpillar twists again and crawls across the mushroom’s wide top. “Ah,” the caterpillar hums.

 

“Well?” Baekhyun demands. He quickly turns to find his brother, hissing, “Oye! Get back here, we’re almost leaving! Don’t lose sight of our goal, you big doofus. Tarts!”

 

Jongin honestly does not even like tarts. He can’t remember how he even agreed to joining the rambunctious twins on their heist. This forest must be the amnesia forest in general.

 

“Here you are,” the blue creature says, nudging over a bundle of ingredients. “But, are you here?” he says in a sort of riddle, head tilting.

 

“Like I’ve said,” a sly and familiar voice comes from out of nowhere, “and Jongin, here, knows this too. And that is that we are not all _here_.”

 

The animal from before, the one who bothered the dormouse, has shown up. What was his name again?

 

“Cat!” Baekhyun beams excitedly, so happy. “My friend! Although I can not remember your name. But I can tell you mine!” He glances at his hand. “It’s Baekhyun!”

 

“I know all your names,” the gray cat appears, languidly twirling in the air right above the fumes of incense smoke. “There’s a reason why Yixing smells this all day, aside from simply enjoying this delicious rosemary scent.” The cat inhales deeply. “My name is Jongdae, in case you’ve forgotten, which you have.”

 

“Finally, a creature with taste,” Yixing praises. “And do you like indigo?”

 

“Why,” Jongdae grins, “I adore it almost as much as my favorite dormouse.”

 

“Do you wanna come with us to Tao’s castle and sample the cherry tarts?” Baekhyun offers with the hand full of dessert ingredients almost slipping from his hold. “I think we’ll need to visit the kitchen anyways, but I’m oh so terrible at baking…”

 

“The Red Queen?” Jongdae drawls lazily. “I suppose I could survive without much trouble.” He disappears by Yixing before reappearing behind Baekhyun. “But, you three,” he says with a swat of his paw, and Baekhyun jumps in surprise when it hits him.

 

“Try not to… lose your heads.”

 

A guffaw sounds behind Yixing’s mushroom. Chanyeol stumbles into view with his gangliness and slaps his knee. “That’s a good one!” he cries out, red-faced from laughing too hard. It’s not even that funny, but Yixing snorts and Baekhyun looks absolutely appalled.

 

“Puns hurt me,” Baekhyun states coldly. “Jongdae, I thought you cared for my feelings.”

 

“I love them,” Chanyeol snickers into his hand. “Keep them coming.”

 

Eventually the trio, plus one, set off again towards the promise of tarts, the notion of losing their heads, as well as getting into whatever trouble the two wild twins seem so prone to running into. Before they lose sight of the blue caterpillar, Jongin casts back one last glimpse. The sleepy-eyed man is sitting there, legs crossed as he waves them off on their trek.

 

♚

 

“Keep running! Don’t look back or he’ll eat you up!”

 

“I told you something bad would happen but you wouldn’t listen to me!” Chanyeol blubbers through panicked sobs while he tries his best to sprint ahead of everyone.

 

 _Damn_ , Jongin thinks as he pants with each sloppy stride he takes. _Damn his long ass legs._ He’s not even sure if he needs to run, because this is definitely a dream, and he is currently experiencing a more nightmare-esque moment. People do not die in dreams. At least, Jongin could guess. So why is he so doubtful of himself that he feels the needs to run, or else? If he doesn’t die by death from being eaten alive by the animal chasing them, he’ll certainly dying from physically overexerting himself. Maybe he was meant to die. Just not literally because this is all still a dream. Could he lucid dream his way out of this situation? He can’t think straight right now, though.

 

 _“How many times do I have to tell you? A fool, that’s what you are.”_ Minseok’s voice echoes in the back of Jongin’s mind. _“This isn’t a dream.”_ He almost trips. Unable to help himself, he looks back in a split second moment of stupidity and fear. A slobbery and dark cavern descends upon him.

 

♚

 

When the four arrive at the castle, fancy and well trimmed hedges lining the perimeter, Jongin realizes he can recall his name.

 

“Jongin,” he tells everyone, but more specifically to the twins. “My name is Jongin.” It’s a moment of deja vu.

 

“Nice to know,” the twins smile.

 

The castle is as every bit strange as the forgetting forest and the inhabitants themselves. Jongin almost expected something more normal. He doesn’t know why. On the sides of the grand pathways are ginormous hedges clipped into shapes of various creatures, some of which Jongin can name, others not so much. Red roses are plentiful. Everything gleams pristinely.

 

“This is a nice castle,” Jongin murmurs, taking it all in. He feels hot in his outfit, the cool shade from the darker forest gone and now the raw sun shone down on them fully. Hooking his finger around his collar, he pulls his tie to give his skin a breather.

 

“Only the best for Tao.” Jongdae grins while he lounges on Chanyeol’s shoulder, but Jongin can sense the mocking tone. “So, twins, what’s the plan?”

 

“We drink the shrinking juice, we get small, we sneak in, we eat the growing cake to grow big so we can get some tarts, and um…” Baekhyun lists, but fumbles toward the end. “We run?” he adds.

 

“As your normal size?” Jongdae questions with an arched, feline brow. “You’ll certainly be seen. And not of the ideal height, of course,” he includes sarcastically.

 

“Well, then we shrink… to three inches.”

 

“Do you even have clothes for that?” Jongdae asks, but he seems to already know.

 

“We’ll just be naked, I don’t care. Anything for tarts,” Baekhyun finishes.

 

“I didn’t sign up for nudity,” Jongin says and ceases walking.

 

“No one ever does,” Baekhyun sing-songs. “Keep movin’!”

 

Jongin honestly debates on whether he should just pick up Jongdae and slide away to ask for help on escaping. He’s cut short in his thoughts when the taller of the twins saddles up to him and leans closer towards Jongin to say, “Don’t worry about the naked thing, it’s just a thing when you’re around him. It’s not even that bad.”

 

“We were born naked!” Baekhyun yells, having no concern about being heard while out in the castle’s grand entrance. “Embrace it.”

 

“You two are big on nudity, it seems,” Jongdae states, and flicks his tail. He growls low when Chanyeol pokes him on the rump.

 

When Baekhyun, front and center, darts low to the ground, everyone gets the hint. It’s stealth time. Jongdae hops off Chanyeol, aware that he can accomplish this easily on his own. They skirt around bushes and veer sharply until they reach the castle walls.

 

“How do we get in?” Chanyeol whispers, too loud.

 

“I’m still thinking!” Baekhyun shushes while signaling for everyone to chill for a moment. He nods to himself before saying, “Okay, keep going.”

 

Jongin feels like this moment was oddly similar to those movie scenes where a team of questionable soldiers go on some special operation. You think they’re screwing it up but in the end, everyone survives and you end up loving these people for some questionable reasons. That is how Jongin feels right now. He feels that everything is downright questionable.

 

How they even make it into the biggest kitchen that Jongin has ever seen, he’s not sure. He still feels anxious about the door they came in through that had a bucket of dirty water propping it open. Someone could find them pretty soon. He must have said something along the line of thought because Jongdae makes a comment.

 

“You know, the Sehun’s kitchen is a lot nicer. I wonder why you could not have gone there instead? There is a significantly lesser chance of being shoved onto the guillotine.”

 

“Because the tarts here are good,” Baekhyun says as a matter of fact, and looks at the cat like he can’t believe the other doesn’t know that already.

 

“Addicted bastard,” Jongdae mutters to himself. “Serious things are happening and this is all you care about. You even forgot to eat the cake.”

 

“Oh,” Baekhyun stops dead in his tracks, troubled.

 

“I think we’re fine,” Jongin says, and feels good about himself when Baekhyun perks up at his words.

 

“He’s right,” Baekhyun chirps. “We’re not dead yet. Except I think we have one problem,” he pouts.

 

“What’s that?” the other three chime at the same time. Jongin doesn’t even notice how odd that is.

 

“There’s no tarts,” he whines. “What do we do?”

 

“This was your idea,” Jongdae points out, and mirrors Chanyeol’s equally exasperated expression. “Now let’s hear my idea. I suggest you all run.”

 

“But we could still bake some of the growing cake.” Baekhyun points to the pack he is shouldering. “A kitchen is a kitchen.”

 

“You won’t have time,” Jongdae says bluntly.

 

“Why not?”

 

“Because I smell a dog.”

 

Jongdae disappears with his little trick. The last the group sees of him is his pitying smile. “Good luck. Ciao,” a voice comes from nowhere, and then it is silent.

 

An aggressive barking can be heard from outside the kitchen and everyone tenses while the twins look at each other. They know what is happening. Jongin does not.

 

“Oh no, what do we do?” Chanyeol panics with shaky hands. “It’s Candy. He smells us!”

 

“Do you think we should shrink to three inches now?” Baekhyun panics as well, looking to Jongin who’s reaction to the whole situation is underwhelming. “Jongin?”

 

Deja vu.

 

“Who is Candy?” Jongin asks first. “I think if we did shrink, it would only help to hide. You can’t run very far if you’re too small.”

 

“Candy, Tao’s bloodhound! But you’re right, we can’t shrink… should we grow big? For bigger legs?”

 

“They would see us—” Jongin starts to explain, but the large kitchen doors all the way on the other side burst open to reveal life-sized playing cards with limbs and weapons. The living cards point and shout at the intruders. “What the hell are those?!” Jongin genuinely feels the anxiety set in. The big cards look ready to impale.

 

“We gotta go!” Baekhyun screams as he high-tails himself out of there, back the way they all came from. In some miraculous miracle, they manage to lose sight of what Jongin assumes to be the Red Queen’s guards and are huddling by the hedges on the far side of a courtyard.

 

“We have to eat the cake now and sneak out of here,” the taller of the twins gasp, struggling to make himself smaller.

 

“No, we have to drink the juice!” Baekhyun shoves the vial onto his brother’s mouth and watches the other take a big enough sip. Then he holds it up to Jongin, urging him to do the same. Well, Jongin might as well just do it.

 

It tastes like sweet tears with a bit of blueberry and has the consistency of spit. Jongin is so unused to the flavor that he’s not sure if he’s gagging or not, or if he should be. He thinks he should be. It goes down pretty easily but with the time he spends thinking about how strange the juice is, he notices that everything is suddenly much larger than normal.

 

He’s also nude. Everyone’s nude, now.

 

Jongin feels bad for bugs. This is not a nice way to live.

 

“Hurry up and follow us!” Baekhyun says, his voice unaltered while Jongin wonders why it isn’t high pitched and squeaky. None of this is even physically possible, the whole shrink thing, so he supposes it doesn’t matter.

 

Chanyeol already tried climbing through the hedges in hopes that their tiny stature would aid him in working through the branches, but he’s somehow got himself stuck with half of his body sticking out. Baekhyun huffs, trying to pull the tall oaf out of the incredibly dense foliage. There would be no easy way to get out.

 

Then, what about hiding?

 

“Guys, this way,” Jongin directs once the twins have conquered the shrubs of no escape— by escaping. He guides them back to the castle, and starts to quickly run and feel around the tinted limestone walls. The shouting was getting more wild and a lot more closer. Jongin could feel perspiration collecting on the skin where it prickled from either nerves of goosebumps. He was about to collapse from the surge of anxiety. How can he be aware that he’s dreaming, yet lack control over it?

 

“What are you doing?” Baekhyun hisses.

 

“I’m trying to find somewhere to dig into or maybe there’s a hole somewhere,” Jongin grits out, not appreciating the pressuring.

 

“You nut,” Baekhyun criticizes. “Tao would never have holes in her castle walls. Look,” he points to a door they manage to stumble across, “we’ll have to go inside and hide. Lots more nooks and crannies that don’t ruin her feng shui. We’ll make a beeline when things have calmed down.”

 

“Wow, Baekhyun that was really smart, what you said just now,” Chanyeol compliments genuinely.

 

“What’s that supposed to mean? Huh, dim-wit?” Baekhyun barks. “I’ve always been smart.”

 

“Jeez.” Chanyeol mutters dejectedly. “It was a compliment.”

 

The trio is so preoccupied that they don’t realize that the queen’s tracker has caught up to them. Two barks, and Chanyeol looks like he’s nearly soiled his pants. Baekhyun is a lot better at hiding his near-accident. Jongin is almost strangely unafraid once he gets a good look at the bloodhound.

 

He has an intense soft-spot for dogs, and upon seeing the albino canine, he’s tempted to walk up praise the giant creature for his beauty. Candy’s nose is the pinkest he’s ever seen on such a well-sized dog. Is he swooning for this dog that may try to eat him and the twins? Yes, he is.

 

“What you doing?! Don’t stand there, run for your life!” Baekhyun screams, roughly tugging on Jongin’s coat sleeve, and the spell is broken. Jongin outruns the shortest of the three, not quite able to surpass Chanyeol’s long but clumsy strides.

 

An excited howl cracks through the air from behind.

 

Now would be a good time for that growing cake because the tiny people will clearly not be able to outrun the loping beast pursuing them. Although, at the moment, the cake is the last thing on their minds.

 

Amidst ragged accusations and warnings meant to encourage, Jongin makes his own mistake. A darkness that reeks of rotten meat engulfs everything.

 

Will he finally awaken?

 

♚

 

“Another male?” a flat voice wonders boredly. “Why is everyone literally a guy. Even my dog is a dude.”

 

“They’re all males, your highness,” comes another voice, more submissive and controlled.

 

“I know the twins already. This one man, however, is new to me. Who is he?”

 

“We’re not sure of that ourselves. His clothes suggest he’s acquainted with the Hatter.”

 

“Huh,” the flat voice pitches with an exhale. “That crazy bug-eyed man who makes my hats? Interesting, but not really. Wake him up for me.”

 

“Yes, your highness.”

 

Jongin feels a blunt rod prod his side, not noticing it the first few times. After the fifth jab, progressively more stronger, he starts to feel a pain. Then he remembers that he should open his eyes. His clothes feel damp and he reeks of a smell that he is only partially accustomed to. There is a giant playing card with an armor helmet standing over him, defensively holding their weapon.

 

“Get up,” the playing card orders.

 

Groaning, Jongin does his best to sit up, grimacing all the while. He only has a pair of pants on, currently back to his normal size.

 

“Oh, he’s kinda cute, this one.” A regal woman embellished with red garb sits upon a matte black throne, her feet kicked up in an unbecoming manner and her posture slouching to the side uncaringly. “What’s your name, babe?”

 

Names, names, more names. Everyone in this dream is obsessed with his name. In reality, it’s only normal to ask someone their name if you’ve never met them before, but for Jongin, it feels like he’s been asked five times in a span of an hour. That’s just annoying.

 

“Jongin,” he grunts. The playing card jabs him again and he winces.

 

“Cute,” the woman hums. “My name’s Tao. I’m Queen. The Red Queen, because I love the color red. Don’t piss me off and I might let you keep that pretty head of yours right where it is now.” She winks, as if she thinks she was actually being funny. “So, what are you and those problem children doing around my castle, hmm?”

 

“Tarts,” Jongin mumbles.

 

“Classic Baekhyun,” Tao titters. “Too bad I got bored of tarts. I’m a pastry puff girl now. Oh, and macarons. Damn, they’re good.” She licks her lips at the thought. “Go make some,” the Red Queen waves off one of her servants.

 

“Um, where are Baekhyun and Chanyeol?” Jongin asks, hoping nothing terrible has become of them.

 

“Eh, I tossed them back in the forest. Also washed their names off their hands, hah! They’ll be having quite a hard time finding their way out from where I left them, rest in peace.”

 

Jongin sighs in relief. That didn’t sound too terrible.

 

“As for you, I’m not sure what I wanna do.” She begins to ramble off a list of things she considered in terms of taking care of the new presence on her grounds.

 

Meanwhile, Jongin’s gaze is locked on the dangling earrings that the queen wears. They’re white rabbit ears, pink inner skin and pristine snow white fur. It’s a little odd, wearing ears for earrings. Something in the back of his mind is trying to resurface, giving Jongin a nagging feeling. It’s telling him this is important, remember why! He can’t.

 

“... anyways,” Tao’s voice fades back in. “What do you think?”

 

“U-uh,” Jongin stutters. “I like your earrings? Where’d you get them?”

 

“Aw, thanks babe. Candy was chasing a bunny around, I guess. Apparently caught the ears but the bunny escaped or something. It’s weird right! There wasn’t any blood on it or anything… but Candy wouldn’t go picking up fake things. They feel real.”

 

Jongin remembers the rabbit’s foot he picked up… from reality to where it made it into his dream.

 

_You still think…_

 

What if he’s not dreaming?

 

A servant comes running into the room, bowing as he delivers a message. “Your highness, you have visitors. They’re here for the man associated with the Hatter, who is here as well.”

 

“Oh, that’s interesting,” Tao muses. “Bring directly them here.”

 

♚

 

“Wow, that was an experience,” Minseok peeps, truly impressed. “I mean, I don’t think I would have ever done anything to have her take my head, but still. She didn’t mention it once with us! I’ve heard so many things.”

 

“We also got Junmyeon’s ears back,” Luhan adds, debatably relieved.

 

“It’s funny, what we had to promise, though. A date with the White Queen? How do you think Sehun will feel about Tao’s interest in her?” Minseok laughs, tail curling with amusement. “‘The only other damn fine woman in the whole land,’ is what she said.”

 

“And fifty custom hats by Kyungsoo, what a number.” Luhan shakes his beak. “I forgot to mention, but I hear the farmers are losing crops to a strange blight.”

 

“We’ve managed to stave off the more severe effects, haven’t we?” The dormouse wonders, imaginary brows bunched in concern.

 

“Well, we always knew that once it started, it would be nearly impossible to stop…”

 

“Thank you guys for coming to get me,” Jongin speaks up, unsure when he might ever get a proper chance to do so. “I really appreciate it.”

 

“Of course,” Minseok says.

 

“It was no problem,” Luhan squawks. “Kyungsoo?”

 

The Hatter has not said anything while the group ambled out of the castle. Awkward glances are exchanged between the jubjub and dormouse, the Hatter’s silence confusing them.

 

“I was worried about you,” Kyungsoo surmises quietly. “You just up and vanished.”

 

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I meant for that to happen,” Jongin apologizes.

 

“It’s fine, now. I was just worried about whether or not you’d fix my still-devastated tulips. Need I remind you of the promise you made?” The Hatter laughs it all off, clapping Jongin’s bare back. He never got a full set of clothes, and is now carrying the ones drenched in dog saliva. “Oh dear, your clothes are the ones devastated this time, it seems,” Kyungsoo tsks.

 

“Now, let’s go get these ears back to our poor rabbit.”

 

♚

 

It is a ridiculous sight, seeing such a massive bed go to a little creature. Jongin isn’t in his place to make many comments, however. The white rabbit was now reunited with his missing appendages, smiling weakly for his company.

 

“Thank you for all you have done in my favor,” Junmyeon says in a trembling voice. “I’m sorry for what is now happening because of my predicament.”

 

“It’s not you fault, you never intended any of it,” Minseok assures, having climbed onto the bed to comfort his companion. Luhan lay his head— long neck and all— on the bed as well, the situation both comical and supportive of the bird.

 

“We can get going,” Kyungsoo whispers to Jongin, who nods in agreement. There is a certain promise that needs to be delivered.

 

♚

 

Dirt, grime, and sweat layered the exposed skin of Jongin’s hands, perspiration beading on his neck and forehead. The weather doesn’t look like it would cause anyone to break a sweat, but Jongin is working up a good one.

 

“You did an amazing job,” Kyungsoo compliments, a cup of ice water in his hand which he hands to Jongin. “My tulips look splendid.”

 

“It’s not like I could avoid it,” Jongin chuckles.

 

After a quick wash, Jongin dresses up in a new pair of clothes that the Hatter provided for him, the color theme being similar to Kyungsoo’s blue, but with a darker gray. It looks nice, as he would have expected. He goes to find the Hatter, who is standing by the flower bed in his backyard, looking dazed. Jongin wanders out to stand next to him. He’s about to ask if anything is wrong, but Kyungsoo snaps his head towards the other, looking as if he’s realized something.

 

“Jongin—” the Hatter starts, but a loud chime of something like a great clock tower rings throughout the air, drowning out what he says.

 

“What?” Jongin shouts, feeling frantic. What was that awful, booming noise?

 

“You need to go back!” Kyungsoo shouts back. In his hand is a white tulip, which he tucks into Jongin’s breast pocket. He places his hands on Jongin’s shoulders. “You need to go!”

 

“What do you mean?” Jongin yells, his voice cracking. “Go where?”

 

“I’ll look forward to when we meet again,” Kyungsoo says with finality, just as the chiming stopped, before he gives a firm push and Jongin is falling backwards onto a bed of freshly planted tulips.

 

♚

 

Darkness.

 

A pinpoint of light.

 

_It did not feel like a dream. It felt like…_

 

♚

 

His fingers toy with the white ceramic containing a steaming cup of espresso. He doesn’t even like espresso. In fact, he rather hates the bitter taste.

 

Although, this particular drink holds some semblance of meaning to him. Aside from that, at least he has money to waste on beverages he would rather throw away than consume, thanks to his current best-selling fictional novel.

 

Yet the question still stands; is it fiction? Only Jongin ponders this thought.

 

Several months ago, he woke up in the park by the same tree he last remembered lying under. The park was, for the most part, unoccupied, and the time was a couple hours past midday. No days had fully passed, but he felt like it should have been Thursday instead of Tuesday. No one reported him for sleeping around like a homeless man. It felt normal.

 

Then, he remembers what he experienced— no, it was a dream and dreams provided no experience but the act of dreaming. He did not experience the haunting feeling of something invisible grinning at him, or the touchy hands of over-energetic and identical twins, who asked for a name he could not remember. The feeling of shrinking, being caught inside a dog’s mouth, or the hard effort of planting tulips because he had devastated the originals right in the beginning.

 

However, the scenes play out like vivid memories, and Jongin wonders if he was never dreaming in the first place.

 

If, in fact, he visited a place that he considers a Wonderland.

 

He has even wondered this within his dream. A certain dormouse tried to tell him straight, but could he really trust a mouse?

 

He rather not debate that now. Especially when someone decides to slide into the chair across from him, despite there being more empty tables around the cafe.

 

The other’s catlike smile stands out amongst his other features, and Jongin is hit with a wave of familiarity. This man really slid in from nowhere.

 

“Uh, hey,” Jongin greets warily, making little effort to properly wave.

 

“Hey yourself,” the man purrs. “Haven’t seen you around for a while.” He leans over, peering up at Jongin with arms crossed on the table.

 

“I’m sorry, but have we met before?” Jongin leans back to put a few centimeters of distance between them.

 

“I think so.” The corner of his lips curl up. “In case you don’t remember, you can call me JD.”

 

“Um, okay JD. My name--” Jongin is about to introduce himself, but he’s cut off.

 

“No need, I know it. Say, I gotta hit the road, but you’ll see me soon. Ciao,” JD says, getting up from the table and sauntering out the doors. A bell jingles pleasantly.

 

“Alrighty then…” Jongin murmurs, befuddled by the meeting. Something tugs at his attention, and he doesn’t know why, but it’s telling him to look to his right, by the wall where all the monochrome photographs hang aesthetically on the cafe walls.

 

Sitting under a photo of a ring of mushrooms is another man, hunched over a thick book, a cup of something hot sitting in between him and his novel. He’s engrossed in whatever the book is about, occasionally taking a quiet sip of his drink. Jongin guesses it’s coffee. Maybe espresso.

 

It’s a strange feeling, the urge to walk over. Is this how JD felt? Jongin just wants to walk right over and sit with the man.

 

So, that’s what he does. If JD can do it, he can too.

 

He also brings his lonely cup of espresso with him, a little peace offering in case the man reacts more wildly to a random person sitting at his table. Upon getting close enough, Jongin notices the man is reading the novel he wrote.

 

Perfect.

 

“Interesting novel you’ve got there,” Jongin says as he gives a simple smile when the occupied man looks up quickly at the sound of someone’s voice.

 

“Well, I find it interesting, yes. Say, you wouldn’t happened to have…”

 

“Yeah, I wrote it.” Jongin enjoys the feeling of seeing someone smile from his presence.

 

“Kim Jongin?” They repeat the name printed on the back cover of the book. “I feel like I should already know this.”

 

“Oh, how so?” Jongin wonders, not understanding. “Ah, here, this is for you,” he says as he slides over his lukewarm cup of espresso toward the other. “I do this odd thing where I waste money on this stuff and never drink it. You seem like you’d like it.”

 

A bona fide appearance of joy lit up the man’s face as he gratefully accepted the drink, placing it next to his own. “Thank you so much, I love coffee and free coffee is even better!”

 

Jongin laughs aloud. “I wish I could say the same, but I really can’t. What’s your name?”

 

The man hums, a pleasant and calm look overtaking him. “You’re just the same as before. I’m glad.”

 

Jongin blinks. The same as before? He doesn’t think he’s seen this man before. His eyebrows furrow together as he looks the him over. Round and owlish eyes that give the man a somewhat surprised feeling, the way he dresses smartly, a rather expensive coat laying atop the back of his chair. Flashes of blue and silver and color of someone’s dreams all come flooding in. Suddenly it hits him, and a short gasp escapes his lips. "I know you..."

 

A small twinkle graces Kyungsoo’s eyes. “It’s good to meet you again, Jongin.”


End file.
